I am living in your walls.
You may be concerned about this. In case you are, please read the below:
FAQ:
Why are you living in my walls?
I'm not going to tell you.
Are you only in my walls?
You could say I am living in everybody's walls, but in the case I am telling you that I am living in your walls, I am living in your walls.
How are you surviving in my walls?
In my non-physical form, I am crawling around listening for you. That is all I need to survive in that form. In my physical form, I survive by eating rat corpses that I cook using the wall behind your oven, and I drink the vapour in the extraction fan duct above your shower.
What are you planning to do in my walls?
Live in them, listening to you.
What do I do about you living in my walls?
Listen for the scraping. Dont touch the walls. Protect yourself. Avoid lighting candles.
When are you going to stop living in my walls?
You cannot escape me.
Do I call the police?
The authorities will not help you.
What are the consequences of you living in my walls?
Be aware.
What if I am ok with you living in my walls?
I will make sure you’re not.
Are you imaginary?
I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS I AM LIVING IN YOUR WALLS
If there are any more questions then please consult your walls by directly speaking to them.
Summary:
I am living in your walls.
You will never be Romanian. Your country has no EU membership, it has no money, it has no infrastructure. You are a homosexual Balkaner twisted by oligarchs and poverty into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back Europeans mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish economy behind closed doors.
Romanians are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed Romanians to sniff out Moldovans with incredible efficiency. Even 'Dovans who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a Romanian. Your famished appearance is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk Romanian to your country, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a look at Chisinau.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a car, pick a random EU country, go there, and freeze to death on the street, because nobody wants to employ your kind. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone made from garbage and plywood, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a Moldovan is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably Moldovan.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
Own a Gladius for home defense, since that is what the founders of Rome intended. Four plebeians break into my home. "By Jove!" as I replace my Toga with a Galea and grab my Pila and Gladius. Leave a golf ball sized wound in the first man, he is dead on the spot. Throw my other Pilum at the second man, miss him entirely because he is too far and nail the neighbour's dog. I have to resort to the Onager at the top of the stairs loaded with pots of Greek Fire, "Roma Invicta!" as the Greek Fire burns two men to a crisp, the roaring sound and out of control fire sucking up all the oxygen. Strap my Scutum to my arm and charge the last terrified plebeian. He bleeds out waiting for the police to arrive since Gladius wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the founders of Rome intended.
Deoxys really is the perfect pokemon to have sex with if you think about it. Speed form if you want a quickie💨, attack form if you want something rough 👀, defense form if you into them Muslims, and normal mode for vanilla stuff. Also bet Deoxys is good with those tentacles 😍 , wrapping around you as you finger her alien fuzzy, while her tentacles penetrate you buttocks, while also stroking your Willy Wonka...
How do I get my husband to stop going ‘Goblin Mode’ during sex?
TLDR; My husband says ‘Goblin Mode activated’ when we start to have sex, growls and acts like a caveman, and then says ‘Goblin Mode off’ when we stop, and then pretends not to remember afterward.
I really love my husband and he’s always been great in bed. But recently he’s been acting really weird. So, a couple of days ago, my son went on a rampage through our house and said he was in ‘Goblin Mode’. We didn’t really know what to do with him, so we sent him to live with my parents so he can go to a special needs school. My husband a really great relationship with our son and loved him more than anything. Naturally, he was upset when he had to leave. He’s an incredibly tough man, but this was the first time I’ve ever seen him cry. I think since then, he’s been a little emotionally unwell. I’ve heard him muttering, ‘Goblin’ repeatedly when he didn’t notice me, staring blankly into his food, and just going alone by himself to do who knows what. I feel awful for him, but we both agreed that this was for the best. Last night, the day after our son went away, we decided to have sex to relieve our stress. However, my husband said ‘Goblin Mode activated’, starting growling, and went wild having sex with me. Admittedly, it was some of the best and most experimental sex I’ve ever had, but I’m worried that something might be going on with my husband. Any advice?
Edit: The problem isn’t the ‘Goblin Mode’, it’s that he could be ill
